Life - haobin

6

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"You're horrible at this," Hao said with a curt laugh as he watched Hanbin throw the rock toward the water. The rock fell into the water, drowning since the start, not even leaving any bubbles to trace its existence. Hanbin looked at Hao and crossed his arms, silently walking over to the boy without saying anything, a small smile tugging at his lips

"You do it then" he answered. Hao laughed again, taking a smooth rock from the ground. He let its carve lay under his touch. He walked further close to the lake, passing the rock from one hand to the other as he focused on the clear reflection of the calm dance of water in front of him, lying its beauty under the sunlight of dawn, beneath the tallness of the dark and green mountains. Hao flung his arm towards the water, letting the rock slip from his grip as it hit the water

He watched in dismay as the rock fell under the water immediately, just like Hanbin's, not leaving a trace of its existence.

"You are one to speak" Hanbin chuckled, mimicking Hao's past behavior

"Shut up" Hao murmured, rolling his eyes slightly before sitting by a grass patch "I'm normally good"

Hanbin sat down next to him, keeping a small distance as he looked at the view in front of him. He's been here before, more times than expected. He used to paint this place frequently when he first got to this little town. And he admitted it was beautiful. It was heavenly, peaceful, otherworldly. The water glimmered like it was filled with little crystals within. The tall mountains gave a sense of protection, the gap between the two in the middle taunting one to escape while luring others in. The sun always fell in between those two mountains, like an entrance and exit to heaven, the bright light always seeping into the current of the large lake, making it glisten in dawn.

"I can't believe you wouldn't choose this over city life" Hao whispered, his finger tracing lightly over a mini pond of water that somehow managed to be taken in by the lake. Hanbin didn't answer

This place was gorgeous, ethereal, and a kind of muse to people like him. It was everything an artist would want. Yet, he hated it. He wasn't sick of it. No, no, he just hated it. He loved it, but he hated it. Every ounce of its beauty, he wanted to tear out from his memory. He hated the place whenever he drew or painted it. Its beauty was too much for his skillful hands to recreate the glamorous enchantment of the lake... and he hated it for that.

He hated what he loved